Ripples in Time
by thenpitythebackseat
Summary: What if the gang hadn't been there to rescue Ponyboy while he was being jumped?
1. Chapter 1

I walked out of the movie house into the bright outside. It was a particularly normal day. It wasn't too warm or cold, and I figured that it was perfect weather for a decent walk home. I was left alone with my thoughts and recollections of the movie I had just watched, which, honestly, left me a little bitter about my looks. I wasn't a movie star like Paul Newman. I wasn't even good-looking like Soda or Darry. I had plain looks and didn't stand out at all, which I had learned to interpret as a good thing. If you didn't stand out, you didn't get hurt.

Although I must have stood out as I was walking, for I soon noticed that a red Corvair was following me at a disturbing pace. If it had been someone looking for directions, they would have done so already. My hair stood up on my neck as every possible scenario played through my head at light speed. I heard unspeakable stories of greasers who were jumped when they weren't traveling with their buddies to back them up. No Soc likes to beat on a kid that has a fair chance. They do all of their dirty work when they know that they have the advantage. Why it didn't dawn on me that I was just as vulnerable, if not more vulnerable, than any one of those greasers in those stories, I couldn't tell you. But I was scared out of my skin and quickened my pace. The car sped up a bit, and I sighed a breath of relief, thinking that they had gotten bored and were leaving me alone.

As if I could be so lucky.

I calmed down a bit, but it was short-lived, as the car took a sharp right turn and cut off the small path that would've safely taken me to my house. I stopped in my tracks and started to walk backwards as five Socs got out of their car. They had been packed in like sardines, I vaguely noted. They sighed and walked in a straight horizontal line as if it were as casual an act as going to get an oil change. I swallowed the golf ball in my throat and wondered how easily I could run away. I was no Darry. Not only was I not stronger than any of the boys facing me, but I was also outnumbered and had never been in a fight where the gang wasn't there with me. The boys looked at me, then each other. They scoffed and kicked rocks with their shoes, as if they were attempting to be friendly. Then the one in the middle smiled a scary smile that would frighten anyone.

"Hey, grease. We're gonna do you a favor, greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off."

I swallowed again, but it felt like there was sand paper in my throat. They started to laugh, and I wondered how seriously they took beating me up like I guessed that they were going to. I wondered if I could reason with them. Then I realized that there was no reasoning with five Socs who just wanted to beat up a greaser for fun. I opened my mouth to show that I wasn't afraid of them but I was and my lack of any proper words proved that. I would've probably said something stupid anyways. Darry likes to think that I don't use my head too much for a kid that could really use it.

"Need a haircut, greaser?" one of the boys asked. That's when I caught the gleam of the shiny silver blade that was flicked out of one of the boys' pockets. I licked my lips quizzically. I was a little ignorant. _That_ I could agree with Darry on. I wasn't sure what they meant by their words and if they actually planned on lopping my hair off with a switch blade or cutting me up like cheese. Either way, I wasn't going to stick around. But I couldn't run away now, as they were making their way into a circle that prevented me to move anywhere.

Now, I could have said a lot of things. A sarcastic comeback that would've pleased Two-Bit, a smart remark that would've reflected the impression that Dally has left on me, or a smooth statement that I inherited from Sodapop. "No," I said lamely instead. I stepped away from the knife that was ever-so-present in front of my face. I was basically speaking to it. And for a second, I may have thought that I was getting away from the boys. But luck wasn't on my side, and I backed right into one of them.

I was on the dusty ground before I had time to think about it. The back of my head smarted from the impact, but it was nothing compared to what happened next. My arms were pinned on the ground, with two heavy knees leaning on to my elbows. Each boy took turns punching my face and chest, the others cheering him on. I still had full access of my legs, and used them to flail and kick and possibly save myself. At one point I kicked the boy who had been on my chest at the moment slugging me, knowing full and well where I hit when he stood up with a groan. I smirked a little.

"You think that's funny, grease?" he asked with tears in his eyes, and had one of his buddies hand him the blade. I raised myself up and backed away from the boys, but it was to no avail. One stood on my ankle and starting slugging me again, mostly in the temples. It hurt like crazy and my brain rattled. I was wondering how long it would be until I passed out, hoping that it would be before the one I kicked got a few more licks in.

Unfortunately, I didn't. My head felt like it was growing ten sizes and my arms were limp, but I still was aware of what was going on. At this point, I was too weak to fight back. So I resorted to calling for Soda, Darry, anyone. It was hoarse and pitiful, but I was close to home and figured that they would hear the commotion if not the yells. But no one came. I had a handkerchief shoved into my mouth with muffled pleas to make me be quiet. I couldn't hear too well. My hearing faded in and out with pain and confusion and fear.

The kid was now on my chest again, angrier than he was before. Before, the group of boys had no reason to beat me to a pulp, but now that I had hurt one of them, they were engulfed with adrenaline and anger. He flicked the blade open and held it to my throat. Despite the coppery wet taste in my mouth and the heavy gasps from being hit in my ribs and neck so many times, I managed to steady my breathing. He held it there awfully long. I didn't want to move quickly or anything. The blade seemed pretty sharp and would cut my throat in a heartbeat. I closed my eyes tight as he slide the cool blade over my neck. I took a deep breath and prepared for the pain I knew was going to come.

Instead, the boy quickly brought the knife away from my neck and brought it up to my forehead, where a few wisps of hair had fallen down despite the grease that was in it. I felt a sting right below my chin where I figured the blade had caught me when he moved it. I faintly acknowledged the feeling of blood trickling down my neck, but disregarding it to be the least of my problems. My thoughts swirled in and out and I was starting to lose a grip on what was happening.

I _did_ feel the tug of my bangs, and saw the look of contentment on the Soc's face as he pulled the hair and sawed it off with the switch blade. He handed it to his friend, who tossed it to the side. My eyes were blurry with tears, and I was wondering if they were going to kill me. I knew that they were capable of it. They had a knife, they had the numerical advantage. I was curious if they had the will to actually do so. A sudden burst of adrenaline would surely do it.

The kid then starting slugging me again, and what bit of consciousness I held was slipping through my fingers. Honestly, I was glad for it. There was no use calling for the gang. I don't think I could have even if there _was_. I spit out the handkerchief and tried to breathe. My nose wasn't feeling too good.

I heard muffled screams above me, and could sense that they were no longer beating me up. I was hoping that the gang had noticed what was going on, but it didn't seem likely. Something about killing and trouble was being talked about, and I figured that if gang had seen what was happening, they wouldn't stop and negotiate about it.

It amazed me that I was still conscious. I wasn't glad for it, that was for sure. I wondered how long I would have to lay there until someone would come for help. Disoriented thoughts filled my head and I wished they would stop. I didn't have to wish for long though. I felt a white hot pain in my side from the blade that one could never forget, and was slowly greeted with the peacefulness of unconsciousness.

* * *

Woah. What happened? How'd ya like it? I thought that this might have been a redundant subject in the FanFiction community, but nonetheless was enthusiastic and excited to put my writing style on it. I decided to take the dialogue out of the real scene and fill in my interpretation and individuality to it. Because, let's be totally honest here. I am no S.E. Hinton. My writing doesn't even come close. I couldn't touch her writing talent with a ten-foot pole. So I didn't want to take her words and turn them into my words when, in all actuality, they would just be paraphrased and certainly plagiarized. And that would not be good. Nonetheless, I hope you liked my story. If you like it, then review. If you didn't like it, still review! I encourage all types of reviews and criticism. I believe that it helps writers grow and should never be taken negatively. I'm leaving this drabble open to being a story rather than a one-shot depending on the reception. It really depends on how many people want to read more. I had a lot of fun writing it though, and hope that you think it's interesting. Either way, I am proud of it. I am a fairly new writer to FanFiction and am writing a story called When You Were Young. It involves Sodapop and an outside character and if you're interested in reading that, too, I believe that the link can be found in my profile. Thank you so much for reading this story. It always amazes me that someone actually takes their time to ready a story of mine. It'll always have that factor.

DISCLAIMER: I am not S.E. Hinton. I do not own The Outsiders. I am just a fan who wrote a story. The dialogue of the Socs are taken directly from The Outsiders, however. The rest of the story is mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Gang's Point of View**

Sodapop had just walked through the door. It was quiet. Darry was usually home by now, and Ponyboy was usually in the living room or in his room doing homework. He looked at Steve, who offered nothing but an uninterested glare. It wasn't that important. Darry and Ponyboy weren't kids. They didn't need to be looked after. They could take care of themselves. Sometimes he had his doubts about Ponyboy, because it seemed like the kid always needed to follow him and Sodapop around, but he couldn't get into _that _much trouble when he was alone. It's not like he went around asking for it. The kid barely said a word.

"Something's up. They wouldn't leave without telling me," Sodapop said nervously. He wasn't a high-strung person by nature. He didn't break under hard situations or blow things out of proportion. He kept things to himself. He was calm and collected in moments when normal people weren't. And if he was scared on the inside, he did a heck of a job of never showing it.

Steve rolled his eyes. He loved his best friend, he really did. But sometimes, he didn't understand why he could make a fuss over the small things. Mostly because he didn't do it often, usually just when it concerned his brothers. And tonight of all nights was not a time when Steve wanted to deal with Sodapop's overreactions. They had been planning to going out with Sandy and Evie, and it really set them back a few if Soda went looking around for Darry and Ponyboy.

"Soda, relax. The kid probably had some parent-teacher conference at school. They probably just forgot to tell you," Steve tried to reassure Soda. He wasn't very good at it, mostly due to his inexperience of lectures and comforting.

Soda nodded. "Yeah, you're right. You're right." And his demeanor softened. He set his DX hat down and took off the uniform overshirt to change into something casual. Steve stood in the living room and looked out of the screen door. He noticed Two-Bit walking with Dally and Johnny up to the house. Two-Bit looked a little upset. Steve was about to ask why, but didn't get a chance to. Two-Bit explained as soon as he set foot on the worn-out "Welcome" mat.

"You gotta come quick. There's blood-"

Blood? He wasn't he had heard him correctly. "Where?" Steve asked in a hushed tone. He didn't want Sodapop to hear.

Two-Bit tried to catch his breath and explain. Johnny looked shaken next to him and Dally looked as nonchalant as always.

"That little road about two blocks away."

Steve rolled his eyes worriedly. He looked over to Sodapop's bedroom, where Sodapop was singing an Elvis song and probably couldn't hear their conversation. It's not that Steve didn't want to tell Sodapop about his potential family problems. It was more so that he knew Soda long enough to know his personality. He was full of emotions. The happier ones were the ones that he naturally prioritized, but it didn't mean that the sad ones didn't exist. And he was afraid that there was only so much that he could take before he finally broke down. He just didn't want it to be what his mind was thinking it was.

Sodapop walked out of the room whistling and noticed the three new occupants of the living room. "Hey guys! What's goin' on?"

Two-Bit looked solemnly to Steve. It was rare to see him so worried about something.

"Have you seen Darry or Ponyboy?" he asked Sodapop, who raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

He shook his head. "Nope. I just got here a few minutes ago. I figured that Pony got caught up in something at school."

Two-Bit sighed a bit and looked at Johnny, who was still an array of sadness and terror. Dally spoke up. "Listen. There's some blood down at the strip about two blocks down. The dirt road over there."

Sodapop made a strange noise. Something told Steve that he could sense when his family was in trouble. It was a result of them becoming so close over the past few months. It's why his mind always focused on their well-being. It was why Sodapop had to have fun along with making sure his brothers were okay so that he could still remain his happy-go-lucky self. But the truth of the matter is that, when something happens like this, a person's character will inevitably change. It wasn't too clear in Sodapop, because his personality was one-of-a-kind, but he was no exception. He still had the right to be human.

Sodapop didn't think twice before running out of the door barefoot. The rest followed behind him as he ran over to the small road that was not too far down from their house. Sure enough, there was blood in the dirt. Sodapop looked around for a clue. Anything, really. It seemed odd to Steve, because Soda claimed to everyone that he was a dumb person. That he dropped out of school because he wasn't smart. In truth, he was actually pretty intelligent. Not too many people would think about searching the scene before jumping to conclusions.

It wasn't long before Sodapop found a chunk of Ponyboy's hair on the ground. It creeped Steve out a bit, but there was no denying that it was his. Ponyboy's hair was a kind of red-brown that you don't see too often on a person.

"Let me guess..." Dally started. Sodapop didn't let him finish though. The gang guessed that Sodapop could tell what happened. They just didn't know what his next step was. Sodapop was a wildcard. He wasn't someone who you could easily analyze. He was too spontaneous.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sodapop took off towards the house. The gang didn't even have time to converse about what could have happened or calm him down before they followed him back. He ran inside and put some shoes on and was back out on the porch before the rest even reached it.

"Steve. I need your car," Sodapop pleaded. Steve rolled his eyes and dug into his pocket. He tossed the keys at Soda, who caught them instantly.

"You guys stay here. I'll call you when I figure out what happened." He jumped into Steve's beat up car that closely resembled the Curtis' truck and sped away without further explanation.

Once he was out of sight, the group dispersed. Dally turned to Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit. "I don't know about you, but I'm goin' out to find out who did this." The group looked at each other. It wasn't too often that they were hesitant about something like this.

"What? Can't we all agree that the kid got jumped? Isn't that obvious?"

It was hard enough to think it, but it hurt more to say it. Not because someone they know had gotten jumped. They all had at one time or another. It's what comes with the label. It was mostly because there had been _a lot_ of blood, and it was Sodapop and Darry's kid brother. The baby of the group. There was no question about it. It wasn't too unlike what had happened with Johnny not so long ago. And that had shaken them up quite a bit, too.

Dally scoffed. "Fine. Stay here. But I'm goin'." And with that, he walked away. Nobody stopped him, either. There was no stopping Dallas Winston. Especially when he was out for revenge.

Once he was out of sight, Two-Bit turned to Johnny and attempted a weak smile of assurance. Johnny looked at his feet. Anytime this happened lately, it put Johnny more on edge than usual. The gang did their best to protect Johnny and calm his nerves when they could tell that he was upset (with good reason), but it wasn't easy.

"It's okay, Johnnycake. Dally'll catch 'em. They won't get away with it." Two-Bit slung an arm around his neck and pulled him closer, then rubbed his head like an older brother. And he was.

Steve shook his head and walked inside. He turned and looked at the two. Both didn't seem convinced of Two-Bit's encouraging words. "I'm just worried about the kid."

Once they got inside, they tried their best to forget about what they had seen and what they were sure had happened. It wasn't like it was a puzzle. The one thing about Socs is that they don't cover their tracks. And when they jump a greaser, it's usually in plain sight.

Beyond the façade of being shell-shocked and fear of the unknown, it was plain to see that the gang was boiling with anger. Even Johnny. If they had been as emotionally unattached as Dally, they may have gone right along with him. But they were protective over the kids of the group and were more focused on Pony's well-being than revenge at the moment. But it wasn't going to go unnoticed.

Two-Bit went to the fridge. They wouldn't be hearing anything for a while, he assumed. He went to the icebox and found a chocolate cake half eaten. He took it out with a few plates and a fork. He was certain that the lack of information was eating away at their nerves and he hoped that some food would lessen the stress. Plus he was hungry. And nobody would benefit from being hungry.

He set the cake on the table with a loud clatter that pulled Steve and Johnny's attention away from daydreaming. It was weird to see everyone so off-color. Johnny jumped a mile, but that was not alarming. Two-Bit apologized quietly. Steve suddenly kicked the beat up coffee table in front of the couch and cursed under his breath.

The night passed like walking through syrup. Dally had never come back. Steve hadn't even bothered to alert Sandy and Evie that their plans were cancelled. They'd figure out somehow. Two-Bit tried to crack jokes as often as he could without addressing the elephant in the room, but they all fell short. Johnny and Steve weren't in the mood. Johnny just sat on the couch without making eye contact with either of them. It got increasingly worse as the potential outcomes of what happened ran through all of their heads.

Steve was on the couch for most of the night but fidgeted often. He could barely sit still. He stared at the phone waiting for Sodapop to call. He pondered the impossibility that no one had heard the commotion. The DX wasn't that far away from where they saw the blood. And someone was usually at the house. He wondered what exactly had happened. It made him feel a bit guilty, especially because he didn't know the extent of the kid's injuries or if he was going to be alright. If they were really listening, he bet that Sodapop or himself would have heard him from the DX.

It was around ten o'clock when the phone rang. Everyone was snapped out of their thoughts. Two-Bit realized that they had been sitting in the darkness, and no one had spoken a word for about two hours. He stretched and looked at Steve, who darted over to it. He clutched the receiver with white knuckles.

"Soda?" he asked.

"Steve?" a hoarse voice asked from the other line. He identified it to be Darry.

"Darry?" He heard a confused curve in his tone.

"Yeah. Listen. You gotta come pick up Sodapop from the hospital. He has to go home. He has to go to work tomorrow and I'd let him stay but he has to sleep and he's getting worked up."

Steve shook his head, not quite linking everything together. "Wh...what happened?"

He could hear Darry sigh and hesitate. "Ponyboy got jumped. I went looking for him when I got home. He didn't look too good."

"But he'll be okay?"

Darry sighed again. "I don't know. We're still trying to figure that out. I'll see you when you get here, alright? I gotta go get Soda."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll be right there," he said before hanging the phone up. He looked over at Two-Bit and Johnny in the darkness. He could make out the curious and confused looks on both of their faces.

"The kid's in the hospital. They don't know what happened yet." He shrugged hopelessly. It was starting to spiral beyond their control and rationality and it was irritating that they didn't know what was happening.

"And?" Two-Bit asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"I gotta go get Soda. Darry said somethin' about him being really worked up. You might want to come with me, Two-Bit. Sodapop isn't too easy to negotiate with when he's upset." He could speak from the rare experiences of Sodapop not listening to a word they said. It was usually after a rumble, when he was still filled with energy and not ready to calm down. He was real stubborn when he wanted to be, that was for sure.

"What about Johnny?" Two-Bit asked.

Steve flicked out his switch blade from his pocket. Sure, it wasn't as big as Two-Bit's black handled switch blade, but it'd make a mark if needed. He tossed it to Johnny, who caught it shakily.

"You're making him stay here?" Two-Bit asked.

For the first time the whole night, Johnny spoke up. "No, I don't want to go to the hospital. I'll stay here or go to the lot or somethin'."

"You'll stay here," Steve said sternly. From the look on Johnny's face, Steve could tell he made an impression. He didn't bark orders at the gang too often. It was Dally, if anyone. "If anyone comes here, you use that blade. You hear?"

Johnny nodded slowly.

Steve patted Two-Bit's back. "Let's go."

Two-Bit looked at him funny. "You're forgetting something, buddy."

Steve looked at him like he had four heads. "What?"

"Didn't you give Soda your car?"

Steve punched the wall, frustrated and cursing. "Can we borrow your car?"

Two-Bit scoffed. "If you want to get there by tomorrow morning."

Steve cursed louder. "How are we going to get there?"

Two-Bit hooked his fingers in his belt loops and slouched a bit. "Guess we're gonna have to bum a ride."

Steve rolled his eyes, noting the impossibility of getting someone to bring them to the hospital. Nonetheless, he swung the door open and ran out with Two-Bit following suit. He turned around and looked at Johnny.

"Anyone, Johnny. You use that blade if anyone comes here."

Johnny didn't respond. He just held the blade in his hands, studying it.

* * *

You didn't think that I was going to reveal what happened yet, did you?! I thought that I'd stick a chapter in the middle of it all. Someone mentioned getting the gang's reaction and I thought that it would be really essential to the story if I explored that in depth, so here you are! I am so surprised that everyone likes this so much. I guess I will continue it! As a thank you for the reception, I decided to add another chapter quite quickly. I wrote this pretty quickly, as well. I hope it doesn't disappoint. As always, reviews are requested (and encouraged). Tell me what you think! Reviews are the best. Thank you so much for reading it and leaving kind words. They mean a lot. Can I just mention how difficult it is to write about Dally and Steve?! Sodapop and Johnny, too! They are such complex characters! I commend S.E. Hinton so much, because they are all so individual and have such contrasting personalities. I never really realized how different (yet how similar) they react to things until I decided to write about it. It's hard to articulate the right dialogue that I think that they might say and it was so fun to try to be able to grasp their characters perfectly. (That's why we love them, right?) I am proud of what I came up with and hope that you are as well.

As always, I do not own any of the characters from this story. They all belong to S.E. Hinton.


	3. Chapter 3

The sickening whiteness and strange smell of the hospital bothered Steve. It wasn't too often that he found himself here. The waiting room wasn't too inviting, either. There were a few people sitting there nervously, but it wasn't too late yet. Steve had the notion that everyone who came into the emergency room usually came in after midnight.

Him and Two-Bit went up to the desk. Since it was a real high-class place, the woman behind it gave them a suspicious look. She sat up a little and gave them a once over, possibly looking for a severed limb or something. Two-Bit shook his head and let out a laugh. "We're not here to check in. We're here to see our buddy." But she still wasn't having it. It's not like they looked like two bank robbers, but the woman had probably heard stories that scared her beyond belief about kids who looked like they did. Two-Bit sighed and lifted his eyebrow towards Steve. Steve was surprised that he had the knowledge to stop himself from saying something witty (and most likely foolish) to the woman that seemed to control their right to get Sodapop.

"You can't visit without permission," she said, sticking her nose up in the air. Steve sighed. He may not be too experienced in going to visit people in the hospital, but he knew that that wasn't protocol. He'd seen a man walk up and ask the woman the same thing without any problem a few minutes ago. He was wearing a madras shirt, though, and Steve was wearing a grease-stained DX shirt. The difference was clear.

Steve rolled his eyes and looked down the hallway. Darry was probably wondering where they were. He probably assumed that they weren't coming. After all, it had taken almost an hour to get someone to bring them to the hospital. It wasn't too fun, either. They ended up getting a ride from some kid that hung out at Buck's almost every night. He had been shocked that he wasn't soused. He asked them dumb questions the whole way that they didn't even bother to entertain. Steve just kept snapping at him, telling him to hurry up.

He leaned into the woman, who backed up to keep the same amount of space as before. "Call into one of those rooms, lady. I swear that there's someone here that we need to see." Of course, he could've said a lot more (and he wanted to), but he didn't want to start any more problems than the woman already was causing. He raised his eyebrows and waited for her response. Exasperated, she looked behind her to see if there was anyone to back her up. She didn't even bother to call. She just wanted to get rid of them.

"You have ten minutes," she snapped. Two-Bit smiled.

"That's all we need."

"What's the name of the patient?" she asked, annoyed.

"Ponyboy Curtis." She raised her eyebrow and pulled out a clipboard of patient names. She ran her finger down the list and stopped at one.

"Room 105. Right down there." Steve could sense the hostility in her voice that she didn't try to hide.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, and made his way with Two-Bit down the narrow hallway. When he stopped at the door, he didn't bother to knock. It was a small room with a screen to divide one hospital bed from another. The other one wasn't occupied, so the sheet wasn't pulled. Darry sat on the free hospital bed and turned quickly when the door opened. Sodapop sat in a plastic chair right next to the bed that Pony was in. His elbows were on his knees and he was sleeping lightly, his forehead leaning on the bed. He was startled by the abrupt noise, and his elbows slipped from under him. He rubbed his eyes.

The sight that greeted him made Steve's stomach lurch. Two-Bit turned away, not feeling too confident in his balance. Ponyboy was sleeping and his body was covered up mostly, but his face looked rough. His neck was gashed open and there were bandages around it that were stained red. His cheeks were bruised here and there and his nose was a little swollen, but the only real damage he could see was his split eyebrow and busted lip. He wondered why there had been so much blood on the ground. Surely his neck couldn't have bled that much.

He turned to Darry, who hopped off of the bed and made his way over to them. Sodapop looked at them, but didn't get up. He didn't look like he had been crying recently, but his face was stormy and disturbed and it was clear that he was upset and had cried earlier.

"How is he?" Two-Bit asked. Steve had asked it earlier and had told him that Darry didn't know, but he couldn't help but ask.

Darry shook his head and looked at his feet. He was still in his work boots and his face had dirt on it, but his appearance was the least of his worries. "The Socs pulled a blade on him. Stabbed him. They broke four or five ribs, too, and sliced up his neck pretty bad. Bruised some bones in his arm and legs, too, but that should heal. There's still a lot of tests that haven't come back yet, and it doesn't look too good. He has a concussion, so he keeps fainting. He was awake for a while, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?" Two-Bit asked. Steve felt his heart drop. He didn't know what he expected to have happened, but he didn't think it would be that bad.

"But he won't talk. To anyone. Not the doctor, not me, not Soda. Won't even look at us," Darry said hopelessly. He rubbed his forehead.

"Why?" Steve heard himself ask stupidly. Clearly if they knew why, then it could have been fixed by now. He never really saw Pony talk to Darry. He knew that him and Sodapop were as close as two brothers could be, but it didn't seem like he was too fond of Darry. It was surprising that he wouldn't even talk to Sodapop.

Darry shrugged. "Don't know. The doctor says it's typical. Could be weeks, could be months. Point is, he'll never really be the same and we might not know why. And it's getting to Soda."

Steve looked at Soda again. He looked off in his own world, staring at nothing in particular.

"He knows that it isn't his fault, right?" Two-Bit asked. It was no one's fault but the Socs that did it.

"I tried to tell him that. There's no convincin' him."

"But he's okay. It'll take him a few days to come back to his senses, but he's gonna be fine," Steve explained. It sounded more like a question. He was trying to convince himself more than anyone. He was starting to feel guilty, too, and needed some reassurance.

"Soda doesn't think so. He's a wreck. That's why you gotta bring him home."

Steve sighed, thinking about the probability of Sodapop actually going home with them. He stepped forward with Two-Bit and put a hand on Sodapop's shoulder. He snapped out of his daze and looked at him. He attempted a smile, but quickly went back to his state of depression.

"Come on, buddy. We're going home. You can come back tomorrow," Two-Bit said. Sodapop scoffed and shook his head.

"Maybe you are, but not me. I'm staying here."

Two-Bit looked at Darry, who put his hands up in the air like he had long given up and sat back on the hospital bed.

Steve tried to convince him. "Pony isn't going to get any better with you sitting here twenty-four seven. You need to go to sleep."

"I can sleep here."

"You have to work tomorrow."

"I'll have you cover my shift."

"But I won't." That seemed to strike a nerve in Sodapop. Normally, Steve would've covered his shift no problem. It would be simple. But it was the principle of the thing. Leaving Soda here to get caught up in his own head would kill him. And that would cause more problems. Sometimes it took more thinking and reason to say no to someone in your gang. You're supposed to take up for each other and have their backs. But Steve could see that that wasn't an option here.

Sodapop shook his head, then focused his attention on Ponyboy again. He didn't leave the conversation open to be continued.

Darry tried again. "Soda, the doctor said that only one of us can stay here. Ponyboy will only get upset if he sees you upset."

Sodapop tried to think about this. He wasn't ever this upset. But Ponyboy wasn't in the hospital often. And the fact that he didn't know what would happen or how to prevent it hurt him something awful. If Steve felt bad about it, Sodapop felt worse. Beyond comparison.

When Sodapop ignored him again, Darry went over to him. He stood him up and took him by the shoulders. He didn't want to cause a scene and he definitely didn't want to disturb the relationship of him and his brother, but he was Sodapop and Ponyboy's guardian before anything and needed to set right from wrong. It would be easier to take himself home and let Sodapop stay, but he was more calm in the situation and wouldn't flip his lid in front of the doctor.

Sodapop looked him in the eyes. Darry could see a lot of emotions in them: Sadness, anger, tiredness, and hopelessness amongst many others. He opened his mouth to convince Sodapop to go home, but Sodapop talked first.

"Please, Darry. Don't make me go home."

* * *

_Eight months earlier..._

It was cold outside and Darry was trying to clean up the house. He had no motivation to do anything lately. Life hadn't hit him yet. It seemed like an inconceivable dream. The thought of him, Ponyboy, and Sodapop being the only ones left made his stomach tie in knots. Each of them had taken their parents' death in a different way. Sodapop was grieving as expected. He locked himself in his room. He isolated himself from his brothers. Darry could hear him crying no matter where he went in the house and it killed him inside. He had no idea what to say to him. And he wasn't sure that what he would try to say would be of any comfort. It was hard to try to tell them what to do when he barely knew himself.

Ponyboy refused to talk at all. He refused to do anything. They got along really well, but Darry couldn't find the words to help him, either. Pony wasn't that big of a talker in the first place and he didn't let his emotions on easily. He was just a kid and he didn't deserve to lose both of his parents. None of them did, but Ponyboy was different. But not in a way that Darry understood, so he tried to keep his space. It suddenly went from being three kids to being two kids and an adult and it was hard to adjust to.

Today was the day that the social worker was coming. Ponyboy knew, Sodapop knew, and Darry knew. It sent a jolt through them all. After the funeral, they were greeted with a solemn phone call. They had been told that they had a few days to get their affairs in order, then they would be assigned a social worker to sort out the custody of Sodapop and Ponyboy. Darry would not be concerned as a child, but would be considered a potential guardian of them if he chose to do so. It put his life on hold, that was for sure. He had a girlfriend, he had friends who he hung out with, he had a _life_. He couldn't necessarily put his life on hold, but he couldn't let his family be separated. There was a time and a place for everything, and he knew that he'd never forgive himself for sending his brothers off to a boys' home. It would be the easy way out, but it wouldn't be the right way out.

The social worker was a middle-aged man. He looked nice enough, but his eyes held hostility within them. Darry could guess how years and years of having to deal with sad stories and making hard decisions could turn a person cold. He could feel it happening in himself.

Darry had made sure that they were all in their best clothes. It had taken a lot for Ponyboy and Sodapop to force a smile, but they were trying their best. They didn't need to be told that they needed to leave a good impression on the guy. Sodapop's eyes were red-rimmed and his face was swollen with tears and it broke Darry's heart that whatever happened to them wouldn't necessarily guarantee a better life. Everything was up in the air.

The man walked through the house that Darry had spent all day cleaning and asked them all basic questions: How do you feel? What do you want to happen to you all? What do you think is best for you all? Everything that they told him pointed towards giving Darry custody.

The man had asked Soda and Pony to leave their room, and sat down with Darry in the living room. Darry was numb, beyond feeling anything. He half expected the man to tell him that he was taking them to the boys' home, but his expression softened.

"Mr. Curtis, you do know what taking custody of your brothers entitles?" he asked.

_No_.

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be giving up your youth pretty quickly. It's a big responsibility. I've seen many cases where a young family member tries to step in to take care of minors. It never ends well."

Darry closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wondered what made him think that he would be any different from the people that the case worker talked about. "I can't let my brothers go to a boys' home, sir. I won't." He stood firm with his decision, hoping that it seemed convincing to the social worker.

The man sighed. "Very well then. I will, however, have to assign a social worker who will have to come check on you every now and then."

"I understand."

The man gathered his papers and shook Darry's hand. Darry could feel himself shaking, unsure if it was due to his happiness or fear of what was to come. "I'll see you in a few weeks with the paperwork," he said blankly.

The man started out the door, then came back inside. "Mr. Curtis," he called to Darry, who was walking into Pony's room to tell him the news.

"Yeah?"

"Please understand that your decision will be the separation of acting like a brother to these boys and a respectful guardian to them. You know, making tough decisions, having to put your foot down."

Darry felt his confusion spread to his face. He could never hide his emotions well. "What's the difference?" Older brothers have to make decisions all the time. It couldn't be that much of a shift in his authority.

The man smiled a knowing smile that caught Darry off guard. "You'll find out." And he left.

Darry had mused the words over in his head all night. He feared that their family would never be the same. He hoped that the sadness that plagued Ponyboy and Sodapop would subside in time. He just didn't know if him being in charge of them would do it. He didn't know if him being in charge of them would be good at all.

As Darry tried to go to sleep that night amongst all the pressure and sadness that found its way to him, he heard screams from Ponyboy's room. Blood-curling, horrendous screams. Screams that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He opened up his door and ran to his room, but Sodapop was already at the door. Darry asked frantically what happened.

"Nightmares," Sodapop explained. Darry nodded knowingly, even though he didn't know and was terrified. He wondered how Sodapop knew, but then again, Sodapop seemed to know everything. He went to follow Sodapop, but saw that he was already waking Ponyboy up and calming him down. He closed the door and leaned up against the door frame. He hoped desperately that there would always be that understanding amongst the three of them that would stop any further problems like these. But he knew in the back of his mind that there wouldn't be.

Ponyboy's nightmares became a normal occurrence, amongst other things. The sadness that filled their house had slowly disappeared, replacing itself with the happiness and mundaneness of life. The gang became closer, and life didn't seem too bad. Darry felt himself growing up, traveling farther down life's road than someone else his age. He picked up another job and Sodapop dropped out of school. It felt like life was moving too fast and too strong for them at times, but they were happy. Darry could feel himself becoming more protective over Ponyboy and Sodapop. He wondered vaguely if that was what the social worker had meant. He didn't want Ponyboy to be lost or confused with life because of something that Darry didn't teach him right. He was unsure at times of how credible his words and lessons were, but he was trying his best.

As life moved on, the worst seemed to be behind them. Life turned into a routine, and Darry still tossed the words of the social worker around in his head often. He never felt like he was too far from a brother figure to Ponyboy and Sodapop. And he never felt like the decisions he made were tough on any of them. So what exactly did he mean?

He'd usually brush it off with a shrug, figuring that he'd find out in time.

* * *

And now as he looked into Sodapop's big brown eyes, he heard the man's words echoing and shattering his thoughts. He had two roads that he could travel down. He could let Sodapop stay here and stay with Ponyboy because that's what _Sodapop_ wanted, or he could make Sodapop go home because that was what _he_ knew was best for his little brother. His brain weighed the thoughts.

Sodapop looked away, then locked eyes again, as if he could read Darry's mind. "If you knew what was best for me, you would let me stay here."

Darry wanted to laugh amongst the grim conditions because, in all actuality, he didn't even know what was best for himself.

* * *

Oooohhh, what will Darry do? Let me know what you think! I really want to know what you think will happen. As always, reviews are welcomed. I hope you liked this chapter. I thought that a little flashback was needed. I hope that you like it. I am proud of it. I love the Curtis brothers and I think that if I'm going to write Sodapop like this (a way that you don't see him in the book) I need to write a backstory and justify what _I _think he will act like. And I hope that you like my musings on that. I promised you that it'd be up in a few hours! And a reviewer said that it better be longer, so I think that I owed it to you all to do that. I hope this is long enough. Like always, I do not own any of these characters and I am not S.E. Hinton. Someone tweeted her the other day and asked if this was her story. That is an honor, so thank you to whomever did that! But, no, I am not S.E. Hinton. She said it, I'm saying it, so it is the absolute truth. If you have a question to ask me (which makes me sound professional when I can promise you that I don't think _that _highly of my writing on here) please just private message me! Talking with someone who appreciates your writing and has mutual appreciation for the same fandom/book is not awkward in the least. Trust me! Thank you so much for reading!

P.S. - you may notice that my other story **When You Were Young** has been republished. There were a few complications with the story on here for some reason, so I deleted it and reuploaded it. If any of you were reading it and didn't notice it and aren't following it anymore, I just wanted to explain why :) Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

Darry paused in a pensive state. Of course he knew what was best for Sodapop. Or at least he thought he did. He was only twenty years old. He was the best sense of it that he was sure Sodapop would get, as far as he was concerned. Sodapop was a good kid with a great personality, but his passion and devotion to who and what he loved sometimes hindered him from making good decisions. He'd kill someone to protect Ponyboy. Darry loved him a whole lot, but he needed to look out for him.

He snapped back into reality, and shook his head slowly while still holding Sodapop's shoulders. Sodapop's dark eyes carefully followed him. "No...No, Sodapop. You're goin' home whether you like it or not. Come on." He stood up with a firm grip on one of Sodapop's shoulders, but he shook it away. Darry couldn't imagine what he was thinking - he never did. His normally honey colored eyes were a dark chocolate color and blazing with anger and sadness. He couldn't meet them. He felt horrible.

Darry half expected Sodapop to fight back. That was what he would have done. Again, he was very passionate. He would never physically hurt Darry, but his words could move faster than his head when he was all riled up. He had a strong heart and would defend himself. The other half of Darry - the more practical half - was expecting that he would run right out of that room and not turn back. Sodapop bottled his emotions up so quickly and intensely that they often wrecked him. He couldn't express how he felt. But albeit him being a little irrational at times like this, Darry could tell that he knew that he wouldn't put himself in a place to upset Ponyboy. If nothing else in situations like these, Sodapop always thought about Ponyboy.

Sodapop put his fist up like he was about to make another argument against Darry, resembling a politician at a podium. Darry braced himself for his words. It hurt coming from Sodapop, because he was always right. Just not now.

He opened his mouth and almost began to yell, unclenched his fist and looked at his feet. Steve raised his eyebrows and looked from Darry and Sodapop, wondering what was about to happen. He had never seen Sodapop defy Darry. He had never seen Darry put Sodapop in the position to defy him.

"Let's go," he said simply.

Darry felt his heart take a punch from the overwhelming emotion in his voice, but also leap with happiness on a less noticable level. Sodapop held all of his emotions on his sleeve but concealed them at the same time. You could tell what he was feeling, but only if you really looked. It was like those picture books with the hidden pictures.

He took a small step forward as Two-Bit and Steve led him to the door. Ponyboy was stirring and Sodapop looked back at him. "Soda..." Darry started, hoping to further explain that this _was_ best for him and Ponyboy. That it was better for Sodapop's sanity that he doesn't watch Ponyboy suffer until he gets better. That Ponyboy wouldn't get better if Sodapop was always crying and scaring him about something that he was already probably terrified about.

Darry placed a hand on Sodapop's wrist and Sodapop shook him loose. Darry was stunned at how curtly he did so. "I said _let's go_," he said through his teeth. He was holding back tears and it killed Darry that he was the reason for them. Steve shook his head in disbelief and Two-Bit rubbed the back of his neck. Darry stumbled for a response, obviously taken back at the person in front of him that was nowhere close to his brother. He let him go out the door.

Before they left, Darry stopped Two-Bit and Steve. "Listen, you can bring him back here after work tomorrow. Don't let him think about it too much. I'll call y'all in the morning." They nodded, and promptly followed Sodapop.

* * *

Sodapop rambled on and on in the hallway. It was clear that he was angry, but Steve found it grimly amusing how far he didn't waver from his normal self. He would never disrespect Darry. They simply ignorned him and let him speak his piece. Somewhere between him nearly exploding and punching through one of the doors (which Steve highly doubted he'd ever do, but then again he did a lot of things that he thought that he'd never do), Two-Bit stopped him.

"Shoot, Sodapop. You're on fire. Pony'll be better before you know it. He's a tough kid. We don't keep him around for nothin'." Two-Bit hooted. He tried to make light of the bad situation and for the most part, it usually worked.

"That's not the point. I should be there with him. I'm his brother, after all."

Two-Bit scoffed. "Then what's Darry?"

"Stubborn," Sodapop mused.

"Heck, so are you. You're more alike than y'all think."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, Soda. The kid isn't gonna get better with you there all the time. Darry makes a point."

Sodapop rolled his eyes. "I thought you were my buddies. I thought buddies agree with eachother."

"Not all the time. Let's go into the cafeteria. I'm starved." Leave it to Two-Bit to be concerned with his stomach in a time like this.

Sodapop shrugged, still equally as upset. "Sure. Alright."

They walked into the cafeteria. It smelt like old meat and peas. The walls were a pale yellow, and there was a small bar with a glass window and food behind it. A few nurses were here and there at the long rectangular tables. There were some patients waiting to get food, and family of the patients sitting with them. The chairs and tables were hideous and severely outdated. Usually hospitals recycle their furniture from the decade before, and Steve decided that the fifties hadn't been that kind.

They walked up into the line, and Sodapop promptly sat at one of the empty tables, right at the end. Steve rolled his eyes, and turned away from him. Sodapop was being stubborn. More stubborn than Darry. It was usually the kid that couldn't get anything through his thick skull, and it annoyed him to no end. He knew that Sodapop loved his little brother, but he wished that he wouldn't give Darry such a hard time. He didn't get the big fuss of leaving a smelly hospital for the comfort of your own home. But then again, Steve had no siblings.

With a red plastic plate filled with a mountain of Jell-O and whatever else Two-Bit could grab, they made it over to the table where Sodapop was sitting with a girl in a nurse's uniform. Two-Bit raised his eyebrow and Steve shook his head in disbelief. When Two-Bit put the plate on the table, Sodapop looked up. The girl smiled at the two, then turned back to Sodapop.

"What're you doing tomorrow night?" she asked. Steve scoffed. If the girl honestly thought that Sodapop had never heard _that_ one, then he honestly wondered how she made it that far into the conversation.

"Probably hanging out with his _girlfriend_." Two-Bit started laughing hysterically.

The girl raised her eyebrows. Sodapop smiled reassuringly and turned to Steve. "I was just talking to..."

"Susan."

"Susan! She came and said hi while you were getting food."

Steve rolled his eyes. Sodapop seemed a little delirious, but nevertheless as flirtatious as always. Sodapop often liked to appeal to the girls who flirted with him. I mean, if you had as many people barking down your throat, you would, too. "Well, tell _Susan_ that we're leaving." Two-Bit looked dumbfounded, already plowing into his plate of food.

"But we're talking!" Sodapop exclaimed. Steve hauled him up by his shoulders and turned to the girl on the other side of the table. "Sorry, m'am. Maybe another time," he said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and headed for the door behind the lunch counter.

"Why'd you do that? We were talking!" Sodapop griped.

"Yeah, buddy, I think you're a little tired. Let's go home."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Two-Bit chimed in. He left his food at the table and helped a non-cooperative Sodapop stand up and make it out of the door. Once they got Sodapop to walk by himself without a threat of clocking them in the jaw, Steve fished in his pocket for his car keys. Sodapop trailed ahead of them, eager to get home and go to sleep and eventually see Ponyboy again. Steve and Two-Bit stuck behind.

"You know that we're going to have to deal with who did this, right? Who jumped Pony?" Two-Bit asked solemnly in a whisper so that Sodapop wouldn't hear.

Steve nodded slowly. "If Dally hasn't already found out, then yeah."

Two-Bit shook his head. "I didn't expect Sodapop to take it this hard. He's gone half-crazy."

Steve grimaced and looked at Sodapop, who was rubbing his eyes and seemed lost in thought. "He'll kill the kids that did this. Don't think he won't."

Two-Bit couldn't testify. His statement had left no room for doubt. Sodapop would find the Socs that hurt his baby brother and he would make sure that they got what they deserved. And there was nothing that the gang could do to prevent it.

* * *

Oh my goodness. There is no exception for a nearly three-week wait between chapters. I am _so_ sorry. Nevertheless, I hope you like the fourth chapter. I hope you like the comedic relief :) I just love Sodapop. I thought it was needed. I hope that I'm not going to far from his personality. Please tell me if I am. As always, review! I appreciate so much. I'll hopefully be updating it more often. Thank you so much for reading! It means the world and thensome.

As always, none of the characters belong to me. They all belong to S.E. Hinton.


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